No, mother, I can't, nor I 'ont go after 'em; Netta has made her own bed, and she must lie on it.' 'Mr Owen is gone, ma'am,' whispered Gladys.

'Try to take comfort; there is One who can make all our rough ways straight, and will bring poor Miss Netta home again, if we pray for it.' 'What's the girl preaching about ?' said Mr Prothero, glancing sternly at Gladys, who was silenced at once.

'Now, mother, we mustn't let that undutiful girl upset us.

I must go to the wheat-field--you must--' he looked at his wife, and changed what he was going to say to, 'lie in bed.' 'No, Davy, I can't lie in bed, I must go and look for Netta.' 'Now, wife, I 'ont have none of this nonsense.

You must either lie in bed or go about your work.